Diana and Madeline practiced here regularly, with the room kept locked the rest of the time. Edith had tried her hand at knife throwing but the sport had little interest for her.
The special knives were made by an old Syrian man who lived in East London. While shaped more or less like a normal dagger, they were made of one solid piece of steel, with no separate haft. Because of that, the weapons were balanced so that they could be thrown by holding either the blade or the hilt, a most unusual characteristic. Both women had a set of six knives, in three different sizes. The lighter knives were easier for a woman to handle and to conceal, while the heavier ones struck harder.
Diana thought with amusement how incongruous she would appear to an onlooker. She had changed to a white muslin morning gown, her hair was still primly woven back in a chignon, and she looked as ladylike as anyone could wish. Stepping up to the eight-pace mark, she swung her knife lightly to get the feel, then hurled it at a target.
Thunk!The blade slammed dead into the center.
Strapped to Diana’s leg was the embroidered sheath Madeline had given her. Turning her back to the target, she whirled, pulling the knife free and throwing it in one motion without stopping to aim.
It landed half an inch from the first knife. For the next quarter of an hour she threw from different positions as fast as she could. If she ever needed to do this in earnest, she was unlikely to have ideal conditions.
Knives spin in midair, and part of the skill lay in learning how to hit the target with the point rather than the hilt or edge. Different distances from the target allowed for a differing number of spins; a throw that might be accurate at five or eight paces would bounce off the target if thrown from six or nine.
With time, a good knife thrower learned how to hit the target every time at any distance. Diana Lindsay, for all her angelic appearance, was very, very good.
After she warmed up, Diana started throwing at moving targets, which swung like pendulums and were a real challenge. Nonetheless, she hit nine out of ten in the center circle. When the door opened, she didn’t turn until Madeline’s amused voice said, “Are you imagining that I am the target?”
“Good Lord, Maddy, don’t even joke about such a thing!” Diana went down the range to remove the six knives. It took time to wrench the two largest blades out; the heavier they were, the deeper they stuck.
Walking back to Madeline, she said, “I do find this relaxing, though I’m not sure I could ever throw a knife at another person, even to save my life.”
“Would you be able to throw to save Geoffrey’s life?”
“Yes,” Diana said without hesitation.
“If a situation ever arises where you are threatened—which, God willing, will never happen—just remember how much Geoffrey and the rest of us would miss you.” Though Madeline’s voice was matter-of-fact, her underlying emotion was apparent. “Save yourself first and make peace with your creator later.”
Taking a knife from Diana, she hefted it, then hurled it at the largest target, where it struck quivering three inches from the center. Not pinpoint accuracy, but still a good throw.
Smiling mischievously, Diana took another knife and hit the same target dead center. Madeline chuckled. “I’ve created a monster. You have the best eye I’ve ever seen.” Taking another knife, she placed it less than a half inch from Diana’s.
Diana laughed. The tension that had existed between them earlier had vanished. “You’ve never told me how you got started with this. I can understand having a weapon around for self-defense, but why knife throwing? It’s such a strange, barbaric skill.”
Madeline smiled wickedly and threw at the moving target, which was swinging back and forth. Her weapon hit off-center and the target spun wildly on its rope, but the knife held. “I thought the story too warm for your innocent ears. Now that you’ve entered the trade, I suppose I should enlighten you.”
“How can the story be warmer than some of your other lessons?” Diana asked in amusement as she sat down in one of the worn chairs at the end of the room opposite the targets. “I still can’t look at a parsnip with a straight face.”
Both women laughed. Madeline had used a parsnip as a teaching aid when describing what a courtesan would be expected to know, reducing first Diana, then herself, to helpless giggles. The lessons had been most enlightening, though Diana sometimes had trouble believing all that Madeline had told her.
“In the past, I talked mainly of what is considered normal.”Thunk!Another of Maddy’s knives hit a stationary target. Though she’d complimented Diana’s remarkable skill, she was very nearly as good. “However, some men have tastes that are extremely . . . unusual.”Thunk!
As Madeline went to the end of the range to retrieve the knives, she continued. “I once knew a gentleman who was incapable of sexual congress in the usual way. However, knives excited him enormously. The first time he visited me, he pulled out two Indiankukrisand started waving them around. They’re wicked, great curving knives, and I thought I was going to be murdered.”
Diana inhaled sharply. Though Maddy was telling the tale with humor, it must have been terrifying. No wonder her friend was so adamant that her protégée learn to protect herself.
Returning to Diana’s end of the room, Madeline laid the knives on the side table and sat down. “After the gentleman threw both of thekukrisinto my washstand, which did it no good, he could perform in quite the normal way.
“The first time that happened, I was alarmed, but he was a pleasant man apart from this oddity.” She brushed a tendril of dark hair back from her face. “He suggested that watching me throw the knives would be even more exciting for him. Being an obliging sort, I learned how. It was an interesting and useful pursuit, so I continued even after we parted company.”
Diana was round-eyed with wonder. “I hadn’t realized quite how far one had to go to please a customer.”
Madeline grimaced. “Believe me, this particular idiosyncrasy was harmless compared to some. There are things even the most hardened streetwalker will refuse to do. I’ll tell you more about that sometime, so you will be better prepared for what might be asked. Don’t ever let a man talk you into something you find distasteful. It isn’t worth it.”
She chuckled suddenly. “The only real danger in throwing knives for my friend’s pleasure was the risk of getting lung fever in midwinter. He liked me to do it naked, you see—I always had the fire built up when he was coming.”
“It all sounds very . . . interesting,” Diana said faintly. At times like this, she wondered if she was capable of performing as a courtesan. At heart, she was really a conventional creature.
Sobering, Madeline said, “There aren’t many men like that, and soon enough you will know how to deal with them. The most difficult part will be your first time. No amount of my teaching will compensate for lack of experience.”
